


Lily in the Snow

by JMilz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cemetery, Christmas Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:09:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28232211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JMilz/pseuds/JMilz
Summary: Under duress from Dumbledore and Voldemort's orders, Severus Snape visits Lily Potter for Christmas.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Lily Evans Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3
Collections: Harry Potter Fanfiction Club Presents: Christmas 2020





	Lily in the Snow

Tacky red wax glittered under the flickering candlelight. It was a garish shade: one that quite reminded Severus of Kingsley Shacklebolt’s pointiest and most flamboyant hat. 

He once thought to burn that hat.

During a rather frustrating meeting, he had fisted his wand and pointed it at the Auror under the table, sleeving it only when Molly opened the door to scold her two most pestiferous children. They had been Apparating up and down the stairs like the pair of bumbling buffoons they were, occasionally shrieking at their siblings without a care in the world.

He thought he’d been miserable then, but he had barely scratched the surface of misery.

_ “. . . and so we show up unannounced — ” _

_ “And when Bellatrix Lestrange inevitably kills all of you?” _

_ “She won’t.” _

_ “You are dreadfully underestimating her, Kingsley. I implore you to — ” _

_ “Fred! George! What did I tell you about Apparating down the stairs?” _

They were all egotistic imbeciles — oblivious idealists with hero complexes of epic proportions.

Yet they were better company than himself.

Tasked with the grimmest of chores, Severus found himself back in Spinner’s End. A rare English snowstorm whistled faintly past the foggy window, a bleak reminder that he should have been at Hogwarts with the students and the other professors.

Alas, the Dark Lord never rested. Not even on Christmas.

Severus inwardly cursed the wretched wizard as he pressed the stamp into the crimson pool of molten wax. Quickly, it cooled and Severus pulled the stamp away, revealing the familiar shape of the Hogwarts crest. 

Another web. Another fly. But the spider — the spider never changed.

He should have burned the thing.

He hadn’t wanted to write the letter, after all. In fact, he begged Dumbledore to do something,  _ anything _ that would relieve him of the macabre invitation that the envelope held inside.

_ “Headed home for the holidays, Severus?” Charity had asked. _

_ Severus had pursed his lips and given her a stiff nod. What kind of monster was he? To act as though everything was normal? To act as though he would not be responsible for her death in just eight short months? _

_ “He’s going to kill her, Albus. When the castle falls under his rule, he will kill her.” _

_ “And with her death, the Malfoy boy will learn his way,” Dumbledore had said. “She cannot retire, Severus. Charity, unfortunately, must die.” _

_ “For the greater good, then? Just like Potter?” _

_ Dumbledore had craned his neck in that way Severus so loathed. _

_ “I sense you are angry with me, Severus.” _

_ “I simply wonder if the greater good is all you make it out to be.” _

Severus begrudgingly tied the envelope to his barn owl’s foot, a rather fat creature with missing feathers and an unmatched attitude. He offered the bird a treat before sighing and opening the window.

Another fate sealed.

How strange that Albus and the Dark Lord so often wanted the same thing.

Fatigued, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and pulled on his cloak for his final chore of the evening. A chore as selfless as he could be. A chore neither for Albus nor the Dark Lord.

A chore for the woman he loved.

From a vase upon his desk, he plucked a single lily, a strange flower to have for the time of year, but the only flower Severus ever bothered to keep. He rolled it between his forefinger and his thumb, quietly wishing it was its namesake instead.

She would hate him now. Knowing that he sentenced another woman to death, another woman as innocent as she was.

Another murder in July.

He closed his eyes as his heart clenched in his chest. Perhaps, it would have been better if it stopped right then. Perhaps, it was he that should have died.

But he had to protect the boy.

In the end, if Dumbledore was right, he might live, and it was this small inkling of hope that kept him moving.

Moving with determination. With deliberation.

Moving to Godric’s Hollow.

Snow whipped around him, sending his dark hair in a frenzy as he collapsed before the monument he had come to know all too well. Her name stared back at him as it always did, begging him, pleading him to protect her only son.

And he would. With his life, he would.

“Lily,” he whispered, running his hands along the cold granite. His fingertips sunk into the divots of her name, the last remainder of her existence.

Severus had never deserved her. A woman willing to die for love was a woman far beyond his reach. 

_ LILY. LILY. LILY. _

Her name was like a mantra, a tattoo on his memory that he could only touch here in this one place.

Here, where he could be with her.

Here, where she lay . . . with  _ him _ .

It didn’t matter anymore. The world had closed that chapter long ago, and the only world that was left was the one in which Severus was alone. The one in which he could save the last piece of her left.

Sniffling softly, he placed the lily upon her final resting place.

Just like he did every year.

The snow swallowed it slowly, and with a final press to the granite, Severus whispered, “Happy Christmas, Lily.”


End file.
